


Reverence

by orphan_account



Category: House M.D.
Genre: First Kiss, Love Confessions, M/M, how do you use ao3 tags
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-10
Updated: 2018-09-10
Packaged: 2019-07-10 20:27:50
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,556
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15956909
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Wilson accidentally lets something slip one morning. House has fun trying to get him to say it again.





	Reverence

Neither House nor Wilson would ever say it, but they enjoyed days like this - days where they didn't have to head into work first thing in the morning, and could relax for a few hours before clocking in. Wilson was sat on the couch watching the morning news, and House sat on the opposite end of the chair, twirling his cane idly. The news anchor said something that House barely even registered, and without thinking he made a snide comment,

He didn't even remember exactly what he said to make Wilson laugh as hard as he suddenly was, face red and doubled over as he breathlessly wiped tears from his eyes. That was a shame, really. He hadn't put any thought into whatever the smart remark was that had passed his lips. If he was paying attention, he would've at least made a mental note to come back to whatever he said at some point. He doesn't make any effort to stop himself from silently chuckling as his friend regained his posture, and almost missed what came next from the blonde.

"God, I love you."

Almost as soon as the words left his mouth, Wilson's eyes were wide, his mouth was slightly agape, and his eyebrows were raised so high they nearly disappeared into his hairline. He didn't turn his head, instead opting to look at House from the corner of his eye. He was suddenly very aware of the sound of his own heartbeat.

It's the sincerity of the sentence that hit House. Sure, they've jokingly told each other they love each other before, usually to annoy the other, and they've had their fair share of people assuming they're a couple, but the way that Wilson said it completely unprompted?

Well.

It opened up a lot of possibilities, to say the least.

Before House has so much as asked him what he just said, Wilson is standing up, glancing at his watch so quickly he doesn't even catch the actual time, blurting out fake surprise and stammering that he has an appointment to make at four. A quick look at the clock on the wall tells House that's it's two thirty.

When Wilson is out the door, House blinks, before turning his head slightly to look at the mounted clock once more, before smirking. _This'll be interesting._

* * *

 

From that point on, it seemed that House had made it his mission to torment Wilson, even more so than usual. At first, he didn't say anything about the sudden confession, letting Wilson grasp onto the small bit of hope that made him think that House had, somehow, forgotten about what he said, unlikely as it was. Then, the torture (as Wilson say fit to call it) started.

* * *

 

After a particularly slow day in the hospital, the two doctors were now relaxing on the couch of their shared apartment, Wilson trying to focus on the television and House playing a new game for the DS he had picked up a day prior. It seemed, however, that House had went out of his way to play something that was particularly loud. Loud enough to be heard over the TV. He closed his eyes and sighed, opening them again to lean his head in House's direction.

"Pass me the remote."

House looked up from his device, before turning slightly and picking up the remote and then moving to pass it to his friend. Before Wilson could take it, however, he withdrew it. Wilson blinked, opening his mouth to start to ask him a question.

"Say it."

Wilson groaned as he realised what House wanted, falling back into the chair and pressing the base of his palm into his forehead, "House-"

"Three words."

"I have half a mind to just take it from you."

House gasped mockingly, "You'd steal from a cripple?" He pushed his bottom lip out in a fake pout, "Shame on you, Doctor Wilson. You know, that's frowned upon in most places."

Raising his arms in defeat, Wilson muttered a quiet 'forget about it,' before pushing himself off the couch and manually adjusting the TV volume by using the buttons on the side. House raised his eyebrows and rolled his eyes, putting the remote back down and returning to his game.

* * *

 

After a week of passive comments and trying to get Wilson to say 'I love you' again, it appeared that House had already gotten bored. Right before Wilson went to check out for the night, his pager beeped, and when he looked it simply said 'Office.'

He let his head fall back and he groaned, before shrugging his coat back on and clipping the pager back to his belt.

* * *

 

Before turning the corner and walking down the corridor to House's office, Wilson stopped, inhaling sharply. This was, to put it simply, extremely stupid. He had no reason to be anxious - It was just House, for Christ sakes - and, frankly, he was growing tired of this game of going back and forth that House had started over the last week. He shook his head, and continued walking.

When he entered the office, House was leaning back in his chair, facing upwards to the ceiling as he silently threw his tennis ball up into the air and caught it, letting it rest in his palm for a moment before throwing it back up again. He didn't aknowledge Wilson's presence. The oncologist crossed his arms and exhaled through his nose quietly in annoyance.

"Well, I'm here."

There was a small pap noise as the ball fell back into House's hand, "So you are."

Wilson closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose in annoyance, "House, I don't have time for th-"

"Did you mean it?"

The question caught Wilson off guard, and he opened his eyes and blinked, arms dropping, "What?"

"What you said a week ago," House is still facing the ceiling, holding the ball against his stomach and tapping his index finger against it.

"House..." When the man in question didn't respond, Wilson sighed, "Have you been thinking about this all week?"

"Wouldn't of asked if I wasn't," He replied without missing a beat. He put the ball on his desk, putting his head down and rolling his shoulders. He grabbed his cane and walked to the front of his desk, leaning back against it and putting both hands on top of his cane, "Did you mean it?" He repeated.

Wilson groaned again, "House, just get off my back-"

"Not until you say it."

Wilson didn't notice House had moved until they were inches away from each other's faces, and Wilson found himself unable to break eye contact. He scoffed, "I'm not going to-"

"Say it."

"You're being ridi-"

"Say it."

"House, knock it off-

"Say it!"

"Goddamnit- Fine! I think I'm in love with my best friend, and it fucking _sucks_ , House, because I - I don't want to be!" Wilson threw his arms up, "Everything is so fucked up right now, and I don't understand _how_ or _why_ this happened, because every part of my brain that still has the capacity to think around you is screaming at me that this is wrong, and - and..."

He trailed off, breathing heavily, his hands balled into fists and pressed against his temples. The fustration suddenly melted away and was instead replaced with a suffocating wave of anxiety.

_Shit._

He slowly turned around, only now realising he had turned away from House in the first place, and sucked in a deep breath. House looked annoyingly passive, eyebrows raised slightly at the other man's sudden confession. It must of only been ten seconds at most, yet Wilson felt like he'd been frozen for hours.

And then, slowly, House tilted his head, and the corner of his mouth pulled itself into a smirk. Wilson felt like he was about to lose his mind.

"Is this funny to you?"

House shrugged noncommittally, "Not particularly. Just glad you set the bar."

"Set the..." Wilson's face flushed once more, "So you- do you- do you mean you-" He dissolved into babbling, mind racing. Was that House's way of saying that he reciprocated how he felt? He was silent for a moment, and then his eye twitched, and he started to quietly laugh to himself. Now he was certain he had gone insane. Fuck it.

House had opened his mouth to say something, but was soon interrupted by Wilson grabbing his jacket and pulling him into a kiss. It was messy, and House's stubble scratched at Wilson's face, but he didn't care. He was surprised to feel House's hands hook behind his ears, his thumbs resting on Wilson's cheekbones, but he was most surprised to feel House actually kiss him back.

When Wilson (slowly, regrettably) pulled away, House briefly tried to follow his lips. They stood, still holding onto each other as though the other one would suddenly dissapear if they let go. They were both panting slightly.

House was the first to speak, "If I had known you'd do that, I would of tried to get you to say you loved me a long time ago."

Wilson scoffed, slumping forward and resting his forehead on House's shoulder, "You're an asshole."

House smiled to himself and rocked on his heels. He had been right- This has turned out to be very interesting after all.

**Author's Note:**

> I haven't written anything even remotely serious in a while and I've never used this website before to post things so if this is all over the place I am... so sorry. Written for a friend!


End file.
